Au Revoir, Auf Wiedersehen... Goodbye?
by Major Clanger
Summary: Epilogue to the Season 5 episode "Meridian"


Disclaimer:  
  
Stargate SG-1 and it's characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions and Gekko Productions. These stories are for entertainment purposes only, and no money exchanged hands. Really. Honestly. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and stories are the property of the author. That is me, and I write under the name of "Major Clanger" for reasons that are unclear, even to me. These stories may not be posted elsewhere without my consent, although if you really want to, you could send me an e-mail and ask. After you get the smelling salts under my nose, I'll probably say "yes".  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
This whole fic is one massive spoiler for the Season 5 penultimate episode "Meridian", so if you're one of the three people on the planet who hasn't a clue what happened: go away and come back when you've seen it.  
  
If you have seen it, however, you may like to know that this is an epilogue to that ep. I wrote it for Gipsy – so I hope she likes it. And thanks to TinyCoward for the beta.  
  
Rating: G  
  
  
  
Au Revoir, Auf Wiedersehen... Goodbye?  
  
By  
  
Major Clanger  
  
It wasn't as if it hadn't been expected. From the minute SG-1 had rushed, with Daniel at the head, calling for medics along the way, from the gate room to the infirmary it had only been a matter of time.  
  
And not much time at that.  
  
From the time that a grim faced Sam had matter of factly explained to Janet just how much radiation exposure Daniel had experienced to that moment when they – Daniel's closest friends – heard the final continuous bleep of the monitor, had only been two days. Two days which had seemed to be both endless and simultaneously to have passed in the blink of an eye.  
  
Janet sat in her office, writing up her notes. She'd signed the 'death certificate' – never before had she cried whilst performing that particular duty. Even this time it had only been a few tears, but for Janet, who had always been able to hide behind her professional detatchment, it might as well have been a full flood of sobbing despair.  
  
Sam had been badly affected, which was only natural, reflected the doctor, as she'd been very close to the archaeologist. Teal'c had surprised her. He'd shown more emotion in the past few days than she'd seen from him over the last five years.  
  
The Colonel had accepted Daniel's death calmly, which was more than she'd expected. By way of explanation he'd mumbled something about Oma Desala and Daniel telling him to let him go, but – despite the strange white light in the infirmary – she'd dismissed it as his way of dealing with yet another lost comrade. Making a mental note to check up on him she skimmed quickly through her notes again.  
  
"What a way to go!" she'd seen some awful wounds, diseases and illnesses but to watch someone you know and respect – not to mention like – die like that... She rubbed her eyes and looked at her watch. It was too late to tell Cassandra now.  
  
The worst of it had been Daniel's insistance on knowing exactly what was about to happen to him. Not unexpected given his thirst for knowledge, but very disconcerting to see how he took it so calmly. Janet hoped that when her time came she'd be able to display the same... well he'd been almost serene. She wondered if he'd had an idea that he would... how were they ever going to describe what had happened? Had he gone to heaven? She wasn't an atheist but in all her years of doctoring she'd never seen anything like that before.  
  
One thing was for sure. Daniel was dead. Even if there wasn't a body in her mortuary to prove it.  
  
Dr. Frasier stood up smoothed down her white coat, patted her hair, took a few deep breaths to compose herself and walked slowly to the Briefing Room where she knew SG-1 had gathered.  
  
~oOo~  
  
"Here. Drink this," Sam reached out and took the mug from her father. Making a face as she sipped the too-hot black coffee she sat on the edge of the table and looked around the briefing room.  
  
It was alive with the memories of Daniel: Daniel jabbering excitedly about some strange artifact; Daniel protesting at some military action with which he did not approve; Daniel with some part of him swathed in bandages badgering the General to let him go on some mission or other; Daniel being... well Daniel.  
  
She'd promised herself after her mother died that she would tell the people in her life that she loved them. But, of course, like so many good intentions translating her wish into reality hadn't been as easy. Even when her father had been dying, she'd not said the words until it was nearly too late.  
  
And now she'd done it again. Left it until the last possible moment to tell Daniel how she felt. Sam was so angry with herself. She'd seen him become more and more withdrawn over the past few months... no longer, since... since the whole Euronda thing. She'd thought they might come to blows over Reece but, thank goodness, that hadn't happened. It was bad enough when she agreed with one of them, but to agree with both at the same time when they were holding opposing views?  
  
Sure that they had reconciled their differences over that little episode, she hadn't really paid that much attention to their relationship over the next two missions. The Sentinel device had taken a lot of understanding, and afterwards she'd studied it as much as possible.  
  
Then there had been the naquaria. Sam had been more excited over that substance than anything she could ever remember. It could be the answer to her prayers... her face reddened as she remembered how impatient she'd been with Daniel in Colona asking him not to rock the boat with his exhortions to the people there not to build the weapon. To be honest she'd found their arrogance grating, but to get her hands on some of that naquaria she'd have sold her soul to the devil. So, she'd asked him to play nice and not make waves. At least, not until she had what she wanted.  
  
And then it had been too late... he'd killed himself to save people he didn't know, whose methods he abhored. The sort of thing he did without thinking of the consequences to himself. A tear trickled slowly down her face, why had she never told Daniel how much she ... well, what was it? Love?  
  
She'd loved him like a brother. No, not like a brother. She loved Mark dearly, but not like she loved Daniel. She finished her coffee and absently examined her cup, then putting it on the table, she sank into a chair and looked intently at her hands. Her boots. Her legs.  
  
Anything so that she didn't have to look around that room and instead of seeing the people who were there, merely not see the one who wasn't. In the end, though, she did look at her father.  
  
Jacob caught her eye and felt his heart break as he watched her begin the grief process again. He hoped that she wouldn't push him away as she had when his wife had died. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea for him and Selmak to try to heal Daniel. Maybe she would blame him for this one too. He glanced around at the other people in the room and was not heartened by the gloom that had settled over the group. His eye came to rest on his old friend.  
  
General Hammond was stood by the window overlooking the gate room. He'd had a paternal affection for Daniel that Jacob could well understand, although he'd had some problems with what he regarded as Daniel's maverick attitude and lack of discipline in the past. George had seen through Daniel's constant questioning of protocol and had often appreciated his ability to think outside of the military mindset.  
  
Hammond stood with his back to the room, glaring down at the stargate as though sheer will alone could make it revolve and somehow disgorge a Daniel Jackson that was not only alive but corporeal. He knew – how could he not? – that Daniel hadn't been the happiest person at the SGC. But, dammit, the place wasn't noted for its music-hall hilarity after all. He rested his forehead against the glass and thought once again how attractive retirement looked. Out of the corner of his eye a movement in one of the reflections on the window and half turned to what had caused it.  
  
Teal'c was slowly rubbing one of his huge hands over his impassive face. His renowned compusure wasn't letting him down, although those closest to him – and that included Hammond – could clearly see his distress. Inwardly he was far from calm and was, if those around him had only known it, very very close to breaking point. He knew that he would regret to his dying day that he hadn't known DanielJackson better. Hadn't made the time to know him better. The man truly had been a great warrior his actions had repeatedly put other, more hard bitten, so-called warriors to shame.  
  
Images of the Daniel that he'd known came to him like images on an old movie reel. The first time he'd seen him, begging the Goa'uld to take him too. The First Prime Of Apophis had thought him foolish, but he knew now that a foolish man could never have survived the way that Jackson had. He'd made each setback into a learning process, built on successes and was always ready to try a different approach. Even when he, Teal'c, his friend and team-mate had killed Sha're Daniel had understood and accepted his reasoning. And forgiven him a hundred, a thousand times over.  
  
Teal'c thought back to their recent escapade with the replicators. DanielJackson hadn't shown the same forgiveness to O'Neill for killing Reece who he'd only known for a few days. There had been something between them and it saddened Teal'c to think that he wouldn't see them reconcile their differences, as surely they would have if Daniel had lived.  
  
He walked over to stand beside General Hammond at the window and looked down at the gate room. The room's solitary occupant sat at the bottom of the ramp, back resting against one of the upright posts with his legs sprawled untidily.  
  
Colonel O'Neill was looking at the Stargate with a mixed look of hate and despair. He shifted uncomfortably, the metal grille of the ramp was digging into him, but he didn't care. His friend, possibly his best friend, was dead. This time he'd seen the body, seen the flatline, seen what he believed to be the very essence of Daniel Jackson turn into a bright white light and float away. This time he wasn't coming back. There would be no narrow escape, no convenient sarcophagus. Daniel wasn't talking his way out of this because, according to what he'd said to Jack this was what he wanted. Not usually given to fanciful daydreams Jack firmly believed that the vision he'd had was something real, not just wishful thinking. Jesus, if it had been wishful thinking Daniel would have come up with a way to save himself.  
  
Rubbing a hand over his face he hauled himself up and walked slowly up the ramp and reaching the top reached out to touch the Stargate. He wanted to scream and shout. Break the Stargate into a million tiny pieces, punish it as the thing that had taken Daniel away from him. But shouting obscenities at the Stargate wouldn't bring Daniel back, not in the form he wanted him anyway.  
  
To say the Colonel was angry would be understating the case by a long way, there aren't really the words to describe how he was feeling.  
  
Angry. Obviously.  
  
Frustrated.  
  
He'd wanted Daniel to fight. For his name, for his life, for... for those principles he held so dear.  
  
Distraught.  
  
Jack had lost team members before. It had never felt like this though. This was reminiscent of the pain and the numbness he'd felt when Charlie had died. Pain at all the things that had been said that shouldn't, pain as the senseless loss of a young life, pain at the space there would be in his own life. Numbness because he knew that he wasn't feeling anything just yet. The real pain would come later when he thought he was OK again. When he was out somewhere and saw a book that he thought might amuse Daniel, or sitting bored out of his head among yet another half-ruined temple. Or ... experience told him that there were a million and one occasions in the future when he would turn to tell Daniel something, think or say "wait ‚'till Daniel sees this"... but Daniel wouldn't be there to tell or see.  
  
There were things that had to be done, arrangements to make, people to tell. That last thought brought him up abruptly. Were there any people to tell? Was it possible that someone like Daniel could really get to the age of ... what? 35?... whatever and not have anyone to mourn his death apart from those who worked with him? That was a depressing thought. Jack wondered if it would be possible for them to get word to Nick. He hadn't a clue how they would go about doing that. Although if what he had seen in the infirmary was really what he thought it was, maybe Daniel would stop by and tell the old fella himself.  
  
The door creaked open and Carter entered the room slowly, almost apologetically.  
  
"Sorry Sir, I can go if you'd rather?"  
  
"Nah," he waved an arm around as he walked towards her, "he's closer here, isn't he?"  
  
"Do you really think he's gone with Oma Desala? Or was that just...?"  
  
"I know what I saw," he said it with a finality and she knew instinctively not only that he truly believed it, but that he wasn't going to repeat his story again.  
  
They both looked round as Teal'c, General Hammond and Jacob joined them. Gathered around the base of the ramp they looked like a delegation waiting to meet a foreign dignitory. Again the door opened and closed and the diminutive figure of the doctor joined them. She looked awful Sam thought, which was hardly surprising since she'd been in the sick-bay with her patient from the time he'd come back from Colona until he'd gone to be with Oma Desala.  
  
And Shifu.  
  
The thought calmed Sam somewhat. If he'd gone with Oma Desala, he would be with Sha're's child.  
  
She nudged the Colonel "I think he's going to be OK, Sir."  
  
"You know what, Carter," he almost smiled "for a change I think you could be right!"  
  
~ Fin ~ Ende ~ The End ~ 


End file.
